A/N : I have to say Rachel Platten's song "Stand By You" was an inspiration for some parts of this chapter! I listened to it on repeat a lot while working on this one.:)

The pages of salvation turned, the ravages of despondency unable to shake the tenderness and faith that refused to surrender.


"Honey, what are you doing up? You fell asleep beside me earlier."

Samuel felt Vivian's hand take his own, as she sat beside him on the couch, cuddling close to him. "I don't know. I just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."

Vivian tipped her head up and kissed her husband's lips, affection a balm for the grief she still felt. Her hands then found their way to his face, as she felt his tongue slip into her mouth.

Samuel leaned further into the kiss, deepening it, the physicality of the moment distracting him from the burden of guilt he carried inside.


"Don't worry about any of that, man. It'll be fine. They don't even pay me any attention so long as I do my work, you know."

Soda heard Steve's reassuring words, as he sat down on the carpet at the foot of his bed, the room lit up only by the lamp on his nightstand. "Okay. Just making sure."

Steve studied Soda for a moment, able to see the apprehension and sadness that had painted themselves all over him. He then pulled the comforter from the bed and gently put it around his best friend, as he settled beside him.

Soda felt the soft material wrap around him, then looked at Steve. "What's this for?"

"You look like you need an anchor, buddy. That's all. It's something to hold on to cause I already know nothing you've got to say tonight is going to be easy."

Soda pulled the blanket tighter around himself and buried his face in it. "You're right about that, Stevie."

"Before we get into anything else, I just want to tell you nothing bad was being said about you outside. Darry told me thanks for looking out for you, and I was telling him what made me come over here tonight."

"I didn't think ya'll were saying anything bad."

"I bet, right now, my dad's out there talking to Darry. He's suddenly wanting to connect with him or something. They've sort of got stuff in common cause of me and you."

"Yeah. I guess they do."

Steve saw how Soda still had his face pressed into the comforter and laid a hand on his back. "You don't gotta hide from me, buddy."

Soda moved the blanket from his shoulders, but still held on to it, as he met Steve's gaze. "I know. Not even trying to."

"So I'm not sure where to start, but why did you tell Darry to take your wallet?"

"Cause I know what I'd do if- if I decide to kill myself."

Steve braced himself internally, as he drew Soda closer and held him, letting the moments tick by in silence.

Soda closed his eyes, as the comfort enveloped him, the embrace one of steadiness.

Steve pulled away, his next questions piercing the semblance of peace in the room. "So what's the plan in your head, buddy? What did you mean outside?"

Soda looked at Steve's eyes, seeing nothing but compassion tinged with tears waiting to fall. "I don't know exactly when or anything, and maybe I couldn't do it anyway. But I would go buy more medicine. Like the cough syrup or maybe- maybe something else that'd do the same thing. I mean, I was going to give it a few days, and if I didn't start to feel better..."

Steve tried, but failed, to keep a tear from slipping out and rolling down his cheek. "If you didn't start to feel better, you'd go through with it."

"Yeah. I told Darry to take the wallet, so I wouldn't have the cash tonight or tomorrow. But I could just ask for it back when or if- I don't have to tell him. Or maybe when I get paid this week..."

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

"For a couple of days. It's part of why I told you about the cough syrup not being there and all. I wanted to say more than that."

Steve took Soda's hand, holding it in an iron-grip, as he closed his eyes and prayed aloud. "God, please bring Soda's mind out of this. I know it's hell to feel like he is right now. So close to giving up. But make him always remember he's never, ever alone, and he doesn't have to act on any of what he's thinking. Don't let these thoughts get anymore power or control. Please, God, make them let go of him, so he can be safe."

"That ain't even all, Stevie."

Steve opened his eyes to see Soda's gaze catch his own, his best friend's voice and expression coated with guilt. "What's not all, buddy?"

"I wouldn't just take the medicine."

Steve buried his face in Soda's shoulder, not letting go of his hand. "What else then?"

Soda bowed his own head, resting it against Steve's, as he felt his best friend's tears soaking into his shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm hurting you."

"That's okay, man. Tell me what else."

"I'd fill the tub with water too, then fall asleep in it. It wouldn't even hurt at all. Nothing could hurt anymore cause I wouldn't wake up."

Steve's arms moved to wrap around Soda once again. "I just- I need to hug you right now. Please don't do it, buddy. Just thinking about you like that, it hurts in a way that makes me feel like I can't breathe."

Soda held on to Steve too, as he felt himself start to cry, the developing plan in his mind beginning to choke him with grief. "I'm telling you this, Stevie, cause I'm hoping talking about it will help somehow. And cause it's making me feel alone to keep thinking about how and everything."

"It will help, buddy. Like I said earlier, you're doing exactly the right thing. I know I keep saying it, but I love you so damn much. And no matter how it gets to feeling, you're not alone. You've got everybody in your life, man. We'll all do anything for you to get you to the other side of all this."

"At the cemetery, it was like I could see myself there in that ground. It was making me think more about actually doing it, even making me want to."

"I'm sorry going there did that to you. But I'm glad I was there too." Steve lifted his head from Soda's shoulder and pulled away, before reaching for the blanket. He wrapped it securely around his best friend, hands holding on to the material, as he looked at Soda's tears that were endlessly flowing. "This might sound crazy, but I get less scared when you're crying."

"Why?"

"Cause when I was about to overdose, I stopped crying. I cried on the way home, but not just before I took all the pills. I sat there in my car and ripped up the plan I'd made with Laura, asked God to take me, and then did it. I just couldn't cry anymore cause I'd given up."

"I'm trying not to give up, Stevie. That's why I had to say something tonight."

"I know. And you know what else? I'm so damn grateful me and you have been talking like we have. If we weren't, you might not have said anything."

"No. I probably couldn't have."

Steve squeezed both of Soda's shoulders through the blanket. "You're going to make it, buddy. Just keep talking to me and to Darry. Or if there are times that's too much, we can do whatever might help put your mind somewhere else. You know like I have before with taking a walk or playing cards. You can even go to my dad too, and he'll help you like he has me. It seems like you usually need to talk, but whatever it takes."

"These feelings have to pass, don't they? They can't last forever?"

"They'll pass, man. Believe me, I've had them come and go so many times. When I thought about trying to kill myself again, I was barely a step away from planning it. I've told you what I wanted to say to you and my dad then, and I figured I'd overdose again. But it didn't get any further than that cause I asked for help."

"I think so much of that was cause of how guilty you felt for ever doing it, Stevie."

"It was, buddy. You're right. But the feeling did pass. It helped a lot to say something. Even more so when I opened up to you and my dad about it and saw how you guys weren't mad at me."

"Just like you're not mad at me now either. I'd feel terrible if you were."

"Of course I'm not mad. It's not your fault, man. I know you don't mean to feel this way."

"I'm sorry I ever got mad at you. Especially now cause I've gotten so close to how you must've felt when you took all those pills. I'm so sorry that I got angry when I just should've-"

"Shh." Steve leaned his head against Soda's, as he thumbed tears from his cheek. "It hurt you, buddy. That's it. You were angry cause you were scared and hurt. But you did it all right being there for me after that. And now, as much as it feels like you're going through hell, I'm here, no matter how dark it gets, and I'll do whatever I can to save you."


"Hey, Darry! Check it out!"

Darry parked his truck in front of the DX, just as Soda came out the door of the station, waving something in the air. "What do you got there?"

Soda opened the passenger door, hopping into the truck. "My first paycheck."

Darry shifted the truck back into gear, the smile of pride on Soda's face making the older brother grin back at him. "I know I haven't been supportive of what you're doing. And I still want you to go back to school. But I'm proud of you, little buddy."

"I'm proud of you too, Dar."

"Why?"

"Because I always have been and because, well, you're doing everything. You're my big brother, and to me, it's like you're Superman."


"Everybody thinks I'm the one who grew up too fast."

Nicholas sat beside Darry on the porch swing, silently listening.

Darry ran a hand over his face, as he looked up at the sky that was now at its darkest. "But Sodapop grew up even faster. He was sixteen, and it was like he wasn't even a kid anymore. He'll say I took care of him and Pony, but I swear he's the one that took care of both of us. Soda asked me just the other day if I regretted taking custody of them, and I sure as hell don't. If I'd lost my brothers, I never would've made it after our parents died. I'm not saying I didn't need Pony then too, but Soda... I needed him in a way I've never needed anyone before. He was there to be by my side, even when it was tough for him to see me as a guardian. He was just sixteen and grieving, but he always looked out for me and went out of his way to love me."


Soda lie on his bed, facing the window, sheet and blanket covering him. "I know it might be weird, but would you stay in here with me all night?"

Steve leaned back against the other pillow that he had propped up on the head of Soda's bed, his legs stretched out over the covers. "Yeah, buddy. I'll stay right here. I ain't even worried about 'weird' or any shit like that."

Soda closed his eyes, as he heard the lamp being switched off. "You're the best friend, Stevie."

Steve, still wide awake after all they'd talked about, rubbed Soda's back. "You are too, man, so it goes both ways."

"I feel calmer than I did earlier. It helped to say it all outloud."

"I figured it would, buddy. Just rest, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"You sleep too. I know you must need it after all of this tonight."

"I will in a little bit. Don't worry. I'm going to take care of myself too."

Soda felt a kiss on his temple, the gesture one that would've taken him by surprise prior to the shooting. "Night, buddy."

Steve shifted the pillow so that it was flat on the bed, then lie down on his side, facing away from Soda. "Night, man."

Silence fell over the pair of friends, Soda's eyes still closed, as he waited to drift into slumber.

Steve stared at the darkness, keeping his eyes open, as his spirit ached in response to the suffering his best friend was enduring.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for sticking with me, even when it hurts this bad."

Steve squeezed his eyes closed, as he heard the sadness in Soda's voice, the sound as striking as physical pain. "I can't imagine doing anything different, buddy."

"You'd forgive me, right?"

"For what?"

"If I ever did do it."

Steve's chest tightened, as he attempted to take a deep breath. "Yeah. You're my best friend, no matter what."

"Okay."

Steve, fear rising within him, sat up and switched the lamp back on, then nudged Soda's shoulder. "Hey, what's happening in your head?"

Soda turned over to his back, eyes now open to look up at Steve. "Thinking anybody could hate me or not forgive me makes it hurt so much worse. It makes the thoughts feel stronger."

Steve finally drew in a full breath and let it out, Soda's answer helping to soothe the fear. "Okay."

"I scared you, didn't I?"

"Hell, yeah. It sounded like you were wanting to make sure it's all right to go ahead and try to kill yourself as long as you know I'd forgive you."

"I'm sorry. That ain't what I meant by it."

Steve found himself studying Soda's face, searching for any sign of hidden truth in his expression. "Okay. It's just after everything you've said tonight, that's all I could think."

"Yeah. I know."

"But it's all right you asked me, buddy. Whatever you need to hear and know to get you through this. Don't feel bad about any of it."

"I'm trying."

Steve switched the lamp off once again, as he lie back down. "I know that's a lot easier said than done, but I'm telling you anyway."

Soda turned back over to his side, closing his eyes to resume the wait for slumber.

"Cause I know how much worse it can be with any kind of guilt." Steve rubbed Soda's shoulder, the darkness quiet around them. "And I don't want you to hurt like that." I don't want you to hurt at all, he thought. "You're going to get better, buddy." And I'll be here until you are, especially when it hurts this bad.


"Superman, huh? I can dig that."

Soda shuffled the deck of cards, thumbs forming the bridge, as he replied to Steve's remark. "Yeah. I mean, he could've stayed in college and let the state take us. But he didn't do that."

Steve scowled at Soda, as he picked up the first couple of cards dealt to him. "Don't even say that, man. I don't like thinking about it."

"I know. But it's true, Stevie."

"Well, I'd lose my shit without you, so shut up about it."

Soda grinned at Steve, as he studied the cards in his hand. "All right. I'll shut up. But only cause I gotta focus on whoopin' your ass."

Steve raised an eyebrow, studying his own hand. "Dream on, buddy. Your ass is about to lose this game."


Pale blue eyes looked into the bedroom to see the golden-haired boy fast asleep, the peace of slumber replacing his troubled feelings for the night.

The eyes then saw a dark-haired boy on the bed beside his best friend, also asleep, within the hope that his effort and love wouldn't be in vain.


"They're both passed out on Soda's bed."

Nicholas acknowledged Darry's words with a nod. "Sounds about right after tonight."

Darry, his eyes burning with the need to sleep, laid his head back on the couch. "I'm about to go to bed too. I still gotta work in the morning."

Nicholas sat down beside Darry and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to head home. If Steve's awake when you get up, please tell him to call me."

"Okay. I will. Thanks for sitting here with me. For caring about Soda too."

"You're welcome, Darry. He needs all the love and care he can get."

"I can't stand to think what he'd do without Steve right now."

"Then don't. Just be thankful for what those two have in each other. I know I am."


"Hey, Superman! Catch!"

Darry caught the football Steve had thrown toward him, as he walked away from the truck he'd just parked in the driveway. "Huh, why are you calling me that?"

Steve attempted an answer, as Soda came back out the front door, his eyes catching his best friend's gaze. "Just cause."

Soda went down the porch steps, joining Steve and Darry in the yard. "Just cause what, Stevie?"

Darry tossed the football to Soda. "He just called me Superman, and I asked him why."

Soda backed up, catching the ball in the air. "Oh yeah? I told him what I said to you the other day."

Steve shot a glare toward both brothers. "You guys quit talkin' about me like I ain't here or something."

Soda chuckled, seeing Steve's expression soften. "All right, man. Don't get all huffy on us now."

Steve caught the ball Soda threw in his direction and tucked it under his arm. "I am not huffy, Soda." He turned back to Darry. "And I called you Superman cause that's what you are, and you damn well know there's only one reason that'd be coming from me."

Darry cocked an eyebrow, his gaze one of confusion, as he shrugged. "So what's the reason? Cause I really don't know."

Steve sighed, frustrated, even as he knew he wasn't explaining his reasoning. He looked down at the ground, then at Soda again. "You should cause he's standing right over there. In my book, that's why you're Superman."


"What the hell, Kid? You never seen anybody sleep before?"

Pony looked over at Soda's still-sleeping form, as he answered Steve's question. "Of course I have. I've just never seen you sleeping right next to my brother in his bed."

Steve rolled his eyes that were barely open, head not leaving the pillow. "Lay off, Ponyboy. Soda asked me to stay in here with him, so I did."

"Where'd you come from anyway? You weren't here when I went to bed."

"Nope. Sure wasn't. I came over late, and we were up even later talking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Nothin' easy, Kid."

"Aren't you going to get up for school?"

"Nah. I ain't going today. I didn't even bring clothes over here."

"Is Soda going to work?"

"I don't know. Give him at least a few more minutes, Kid."

Pony sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes gazing at his middle brother, concern etched into his expression. "Steve, was he like he was that other night you were here? Please tell me the truth."

"Yeah, Pony. Pretty much."

"But he talked to you about it, and that helped?"

"I think so."

Darry's voice came from the doorway. "Hey, Pone. Your eggs are ready."

Pony took one last look at Soda, before taking this as his cue to leave the room. "Promise me one of you will be real with me, okay? I hate not really knowing what's going on when it's Soda we're talking about."

Darry spoke first, as he reached for Pony's shoulder. "We'll sit down and talk tonight, Kiddo." He watched his little brother make his way out of the room, then looked at Steve, who'd yet to get up from the bed. "So did he talk to you last night, like he needed to?"

Steve absently touched Soda's back, the physical contact a reassurance that his best friend was still here. "Yeah. He did."

"Should I wake him up?"

"That's up to you, Superman. But I wouldn't."

"I'll call Mr. Coleman and tell him he's not feeling well. It's true enough anyway."

"Yeah. You know he'd understand too."

"I don't want to go to work. I wouldn't if I didn't have to. I've taken so much time off lately already, and then, Soda has that appointment tomorrow so-"

"Don't sweat it, Darry." Steve sat up on the bed, his gaze now moving to his older friend. "I ain't going anywhere til I need to get ready for my shift this afternoon."

"I guess I should've known that, huh? Before your dad left last night, he said he wants you to call him this morning."

"Yeah. I'll do that."

Darry stared at Soda, seeing he remained fast asleep with no sign that he was rousing from slumber. "He tell you everything?"

"God, I hope that was everything, Superman."

"So do you think- I mean, is he actually planning to..."

"He said talking helped. But yeah, I think he was."

"He told you how?"

"Yeah. He was trying to hold off and see if he started feeling better."

"I can't believe this, Steve. I can't believe this is Soda we're talking about."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. Damn, I've said before that hearing he'd been shot was the worst thing I've ever heard. But what he told me last night," Steve touched Soda's back again, just as his best friend drew in a deep breath. "I swear that's even more terrifying."


"Yeah. I know. But I'm okay, Dad. Go out with Audrey later. Please. I'll see you tonight."

Soda, still bleary-eyed, saw Steve with the phone receiver pressed to his ear.

"I will. Love you too. Bye."

Soda watched his best friend hang up the phone, then looked around, as he pressed a hand to his chest. "Steve?"

Steve turned to see Soda standing at the edge of the living room. "Hey, man. Darry called you in sick, so don't worry about-"

"Did last night really happen? Did I say all that to you?"

"Yeah, buddy. You did."

The room tilted in front of Soda's eyes, as he pressed his other hand to his chest. "And your dad and Darry?"

"Yeah. You said some stuff to them too."

Soda took a stumbling step forward, before he felt Steve's arm wrap around him and lead him to sit down on the couch. "What's wrong with me?"

"I think you're just anxious, man."

"I feel funny, Stevie. Like nothing's real."

Steve kept his arm around Soda, attempting to steady him. "You had a pretty bad night, buddy. But you got through it. It's over."

"I can't believe I said any of that to you. I can't believe I told you I was going to..."

Steve watched Soda's eyes close, as his hands seemed to press harder into his chest. "I know. But you did, and you needed to do it. Keeping that to yourself would be the worst thing you could do."

"What about Pony? Did he hear anything? Did he-?"

"No, buddy. He was already asleep. It was late. But he saw me in your room with you earlier this morning, so he's got an idea. He knows you're struggling again."

"How did I get here, Stevie? How did I get this bad?"

"I'm not sure, man." Steve put his own hand over one of Soda's. "But listen to me, okay? Everything's all right. No one's mad at you or upset with you. You and me both are going to take it easy til later this afternoon."

"What happens later this afternoon?"

"I just mean when I have to go to work."

"Oh. Okay."

"It really is all right, buddy. You can relax."

Soda sagged back against the couch, letting out a long breath, as his hands dropped from his chest to his lap. "It's like I woke up, but still felt like I had to be dreaming. Or maybe like I'm not really here or something."

"Yeah. I know exactly what you're talking about."

Soda let a few moments of silence pass, before he looked straight at Steve. "Are you okay, Stevie?"

"I am. I'm glad I came over too. That bad feeling I had was about as real as they come."

"Yeah. Sure was."

Steve waited, unsure if Soda wanted to say anything else. When his best friend stayed quiet, he clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, man. Why don't we go fix us something to eat? Then, we can talk some more or just do whatever. Like I said, we'll take it easy this morning."


"What the hell do you mean you got a ticket?"

Soda gestured for Darry to lower his voice. "Don't start yelling, Dar. Pony seemed upset earlier today, and I don't want him to think we're fightin'."

Darry rolled his eyes, as he started to unbutton his shirt. "Well, we kind of are fighting. What was the ticket for?"

Soda's eyes dropped to the floor of his big brother's bedroom, as he shuffled his feet. "I was, uh, just going a little bit too fast."

"A little, huh? How much over the limit?"

"Maybe, um, about twenty or twenty-five?"

"Sodapop, look at me when I'm talking to you. There ain't anything interesting about my carpet."

Soda looked up at his brother, a grin playing on his face. "There could be if you look hard enough."

"Soda. I'm serious."

"I know. You're too serious, Darry. It's one ticket. So smile, before you lose your damn mind."


"Last time I made pancakes, I dropped the bowl of batter and made a mess."

Steve ate the last of his syrup-drenched breakfast, as he listened to Soda talk, both of them sitting on the back porch. "You lost your grip on it?"

Soda moved his fork through the syrup on his plate that had half of a pancake still on it. "Yeah. Then, Pony made it again and even dyed it blue, like I had it the first time. I told him and Darry I was okay, but I really just wanted to cry."

"But not cause of the mess."

"Darry told me not to feel bad cause it was an accident. But to me, it felt like more than that."

"What did it feel like?"

"Like I couldn't do anything for myself anymore. Like whatever I try is just going to get messed up every time."

"It's not though, man."

"I don't want you guys having to clean up after me all the time."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean why not? Cause I ain't a little kid, Steve. There was enough I couldn't do before. And yeah, I know Dr. Simons is expecting this to get better with time and stuff, but still."

"You've cleaned up after me plenty."

"Huh? When?"

"Well, for one thing, you swept up the glass after I broke my window that one night. You didn't even let me help either."

"That was different."

"Yeah. Because it wasn't even an accident. And you had to stop me from putting my hand through it after I broke the window with the lamp."

"All right. So I helped clean up and kept you from hurting yourself. But what else are you talking about?"

"Messes that aren't so literal. Like when you've been there to listen to me talk about stuff I never had before. Which you've done more times than I can even count."

"Yeah. I guess if you want to look at it like that."

"I do want to look at it like that, so I am. Cause you know as well as I do it's not just about cleaning something up or even being able to fix it. It's about just being there."

"Like you couldn't fix it for me last night, but you were here. You're still here."

"Exactly. Sometimes, we can't fix it. But we can be there and understand. It's okay to need that, buddy. Whether it's because your arm's giving you a hard time or because you've got tough feelings that are screwing up how you think."

Soda was quiet, as he pressed his fork into a bite of pancake, then swirled it around in the syrup, while he stared at the plate.

Steve set his own plate down on the concrete floor of the porch, his gaze intently on his best friend. "And you know what else? Pony and Darry didn't have to help you clean up that day. I didn't have to be here last night or right now. That's not what's happening."

Soda put the bite of pancake in his mouth, chewing it. "What do you mean?"

"Why were you there for me? Why are you always still there for me when I need you now?"

"Cause you're my best friend."

"Well, yeah, but is it something you have to do? Or do you do it because you want to?"

"Cause I want to."

"Why?"

"Cause I care about you, and I want to help make sure you're okay."

"Yeah. I know that, man. Just like I've told you I want to go through all this with you. So do both of your brothers. We can't fix it, like we wish we could, but we can be there. We can make sure you know it's more than all right to need us."

Soda looked at what was left of his breakfast, before he started to chuckle.

"Um, not that I'm not glad to hear you laughing, but what's funny?"

"Did we really just have a deep conversation because of pancakes?"

Steve started to laugh along with Soda. "Yeah. It looks like we really did."

Soda's ears absorbed the sound of their shared laughter, his heart still aching with the want for hope, as it reached out for the salve that could bring deliverance.